Another State of Mind
by OyNebach42
Summary: Non-Slash. Derek, Stiles, a flash of lightning and presto! You've got a big problem on your hands. Derek's trapped in Stiles' body while Stiles is trapped in Derek's. Maybe even for good. Inspired by a remark at Comic-con and set during season one. Reviews are appreciated! Chapter 13 is up.
1. Chapter One: Lightning

Hello peoples! I have started a teen wolf story as you can see. This is my first ever Teen wolf fic, and I hope it will be a lot of fun. I remembered from watching the Comic con panel that Dylan said he'd like to play Derek, and Tyler H. said he'd like to play Stiles. I was inspired by that to write this story. It takes place in season one. Well, here it goes! (Please don't be strangers, reviews are welcome!)

Chapter One: Lightning

I was not happy, which isn't really that unusual nowadays. Once my best friend had been turned into a werewolf all hell broke loose. And since I knew everything, it was like life was throwing every curve ball it had at me. Werewolves, werewolf hunters, wolf's bane, dead bodies, nightly hunts, Alphas, Betas… And it just kept getting better and better.

I sighed and glanced at the clock on my dash before turning off the jeep. It was past two in the morning. Any normal kid with half a bit of sense would be at home trying to get some sleep or cram before the big chem test. Not me, nope, I was all action these days.

There was a six pack of energy drinks on the seat next to me. I popped one open and took a swig. G-d, that stuff was nasty! It tasted the way perfume smells, if you know what I mean. But it would hopefully keep me awake until Scott got there. Oy, Scott. Now there was a pickle. I can understand that being a turned into a werewolf against your will must take some getting used to and stuff, but you'd expect the guy to at least be a little gung ho about it by now. Nothing doing.

Mostly it was because of Alison. Since she was an Argent and Scott was a werewolf and everything.

G-d where was he? It was getting pretty cold sitting there in the dark, but I didn't really want to waste any gas running the heater. Instead I just zipped up my jacket and opened another Blu. I glanced up at the sky, trying to check the moon even though I knew it was new. There wasn't any visible moon tonight though. The whole sky was covered in thick clouds. Oh right, I remembered hearing that it was supposed to storm this week.

Lightning flashed at that same moment.

Great, just great. Why not have a rabid werewolf attack me while we're at it.

Something large landed on the roof of the jeep and scared the crap out of me. As soon as my heart started beating again I rolled down the window. "G-d Scott, why not just toss the jeep instead or something?"

There was a sort of snorting growl from outside.

"Scott?"

No response. The thing shifted its weight and the metal groaned.

"Derek, whatever you just broke you're paying for."

Ok THAT time there was a roar.

It wasn't Derek and it wasn't Scott, which left only… "The Alpha!" A huge fur covered arm reached through the window as I fought to shut it. Three inch long claws latched onto my arm and yanked me out.

That's when I for real screamed. The alpha was huge, as large as a male grizzly bear. Its claws dug into the flesh on my arm as it raised me so that I was at eye level. Hot rancid breath hit my face as it opened enormous jaws.

I turned my head from the stench. "Oh, come on," I begged, "You don't want to eat me. I'm all gristle, it would be murder for you digestion." I snaked my free hand into my pocket to my cell phone and pushed speed dial. I knew it wouldn't do me any good anyway; no one would be able to get here in time. Hot blood began to trickle down my arm.

The Alpha extended its long tongue and began to lap up the blood. "Oh G-d," I wheezed, "That's disgusting. I hope you've had your rabies shot." It laid its ears back and growled at me, but kept right on licking.

"I'll take that as a no." I was pretty sure I'd gone into shock or something because my arm didn't hurt at all. I was also pretty sure that I was about to die unless something happened quick. I've never been very athletic or taken any self-defense classes or anything, but still I thought I should do something. The alpha was holding me too far away from its body for a groin kick. It was going to have to be a punch. So I doubled up my free hand and gave it the best round house punch I could muster in the eye.

I must have caught it off guard or something, because the Alpha roared and let me drop.

As soon as I hit the ground, I scurried underneath the jeep.

A smaller angrier roar came from the woods, and the vehicle almost flipped when something hit it. Probably Scott or Derek. I peered through the gap between the tires, and prayed that my car wouldn't flip over and leave me exposed or worse, jump up and crunch me under a wheel.

Luckily the fighting moved away from the jeep pretty quickly. It was Derek who was fighting the alpha, I could tell from the way his leather jacket shone when there was a lightning flash. It started to rain buckets. The Alpha didn't seem to like storms much. After a few more swipes at Derek, it retreated into the woods.

I exhaled and collapsed against the soggy ground. The shock was fading far too fast. My arm hurt like hell. I clutched at the wound.

A hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me from under the jeep. It was Derek.

"G-D," I groaned, "what is it with you werewolves and pulling people?" Rain was splattering my face and I couldn't open my eyes long enough to focus on anything.

"Get up," Derek ordered.

I rolled over and pushed myself onto my heels and stood up that way to keep the stain off of my arms. Both of them were killing me now, from the Alpha's claws and getting yanked on by both wolves.

"Did he bite you?"

I shook my head, "Just clawed and licked."

Derek processed this for a moment, "Show me the wound."

I thought about telling him to get lost, but I was a little anxious about it myself. "Ok," I muttered as I unzipped my jacket, "but not touching it, kapeesh? It hurts like hell."

Instead of saying anything Derek just glared.

"I mean it," I warned as I began rolling up my sleeve, "you touch it and I'll…"

He made very angry noise in his throat and ripped the sleeve off my shirt.

"Dude, that was new!" I exclaimed but then shut up because I could see the wound. It did not look happy. "Gosh, do werewolf wounds always swell up like that?"

Derek exhaled slowly, "He got venom in you. I can't tell how much, but if it's enough and it stays in your blood stream, you'll turn. Unless you want to be one of his pack, we need to get the venom out."

I thought about being a werewolf for one second. I'd thought about it a lot lately. It would rock for sure, and be super, super awesome… But I knew I wasn't ready for anything like that yet. Plus it was not the best time in the world, with the chem test and everything.

"Ok, take it out."

Derek nodded and gripped the wound on either side. He studied it for one moment that then squeezed.

"OW! OW! OH MY G-D!" I screamed, watching the blood pour out, "I thought you were going to suck it out or something like they do in westerns for snake bites."

"You've got to be kidding," he grunted and pressed again, harder.

"OW! SON OF A-" I threw my head back in an inhuman scream. The whole experience made me redefine the word 'agony'. Plus the blood loss was starting to make me dizzy. Rain pelted down onto my face and into my mouth and nose. The skyline shifted and swayed.

Finally, Derek released my arm, "I got it all."

"Oh, thank G-d." I gasped, threading my fingers through the jeeps bumper.

"Here," Derek tore my other sleeve off; I was too drained to protest, and he started binding it over my arm. I guess he was feeling generous tonight or something.

I watched and blinked. Derek kept multiplying, first there were two and then four and then… Then we got struck by lightning. I'm haven't worked out the odds yet as to how random it is for a werewolf and human to get struck by lightning at the same time, but I'm pretty sure it's never happened before and hopefully it will never happen again. I had my hand on the bumper so I think the car may have grounded the bolt a little. I'm not sure. But it knocked me out.

When I woke up I was bouncing along on a stretcher going into hospital's ER entrance. I was only awake for a minute or two, but it was long enough for me to realize something very, very bad had happened, because arm didn't hurt anymore.


	2. Chapter Two: Coming To

Let me start off by thanking everybody who reviewed, so my thanks to dreamer2322, Guest and colorful-POP. I would now like to say that 'Another State of Mind' is NOT a slash fic. I just thought I would clear that up. Also, I drew the cover picture for this fic. It took me forever, but it was worth it, I'm really pleased with how it turned out.

Chapter Two: Coming To

"How long as he been out?"

"A couple of hours, but that's normal considering the blood loss and lightning strike."

"G-d, what were the chances anyway?"

"It'd still like to know what they were both doing out there, and how he got that wound."

Shoot, shoot, shoot. I kept my eyes shut, and listened. I needed to think up something fast to say when all the questions started. Uh, why had I been in the middle of the woods at two a.m. with Derek Hale? Ok, think…. He was helping me study. No crummy answer. He was selling me drugs. That sounded more plausible, except I'm sure they wouldn't have found any. I couldn't sleep so I drove around and stopped in the woods, only to get attacked by a mountain lion. Derek happened to be in the neighborhood at the right moment, chased the cat off and then was helping bind my wound when the lightning hit. That sounded better but still pretty sketchy. Oh well, it would have to do.

I "woke up" then. And it was weird, because as I went through my groaning and opening my eyes not one person commented that I was coming to. Weird, and stranger still, there was nobody in the room. Had I imagined the voices, or were they in my head or something? I sat up quickly, noticing that my arm didn't hurt anymore. I looked down at my arm and blinked. G-d, this wasn't mine! My arm was sickly white with assorted freckles. This arm did not fit that description.

Quickly, I scanned the hands. Not mine! I ran the fingers all over my face. Not mine! There were high cheekbones and stubble and flared nostrils and eyebrows like caterpillars. Definitely not mine! I looked around for something reflective and found a metal tray with food stuff next to the bed. I flipped the tray over and stared wild eyed into the face gazing back at me. It was Derek.

Oh my G-d, I was Derek!

My pulse shot up as I stared at Derek's reflection and I tried not to panic. I mean, I've seen weirder things than just switching bodies… If that is what we'd done. I suddenly realized that he might still be in there with me. Derek? I asked, hoping I wouldn't get an answer.

There was none. Ok, good, so at least that negated the idea of a bipolar experience. Meaning he was probably living in my head now. Gross.

"Oh, you're awake."

I turned to see a nurse in the doorway. She was staring at me with sort of fear and awe mixed up together. Somebody was pounding something pretty hard in a repetitive rhythm.

"Um, I'll go get a doctor." The nurse faltered before leaving. No woman had ever acted that way around me before, it was kind of cool. As soon as she left the pounding stopped and then the whole thing clicked. I'd been hearing her heart beat.

Oh right, since I was Derek now, it only made sense that I should be a werewolf too. Awesome. Something else clicked too, the voices I'd heard before must have come from another room and I just overheard them with my super hearing.

I wondered how my body was getting along, so I tried to turn on my super hearing. I concentrated on my ears trying to find the 'on switch'. I squinted and the ears wiggled. Nothing happened. Ok, it wasn't the end of the world. I'd get Scott to show me how or something.

"Ah, Mister Hale, how are you feeling?" A balding doctor walked into the room.

I shrugged, "OK." It was weird talking in Derek's voice. It didn't sound the same as hearing it from the outside either.

He marked something down on his clip board. "Any headache or dizziness?"

"No."

"Nausea?"

"No."

"Are you experiencing a ringing in your ears?"

I checked, "nope, looks like I'm AOK doc."

He hummed, "it seems so, and you can leave after you sign this release form, but if you start experiencing any of those symptoms you should come back here, got it?"

"That's fine with me." I took the pen he offered and went to sign my name, I almost wrote Stiles, but I caught it in time. My handwriting came out kind of weird, but the doctor didn't notice.

"Mind if I have a word with him, Doc?"

It was my dad. I knew from the sound of his voice. He walked over to the bed and leaned over the end railing towards me. He looked pretty tired. There were bags under his eyes and his cheek was red from where he'd fallen asleep on his shoulder radio.

The doctor muttered something left. I didn't turn my eyes from my dad. He was starting at me with suspicion. "Derek,"

"Heya, Sheriff Stilinski." I almost slapped myself, that didn't sound very Derek-ish. Think Derek, I reminded myself, think Derek.

His frown deepened. "I have a couple of questions I'd like to ask you,"

"Go right ahead," I rubbed the side of my jaw.

Dad nodded and got right down to it, "what were you doing out in the woods at two A.M?"

I had a Stiles answer prepared for this question, but now I had to throw it out and come up with something that would work for Derek. "I was walking."

"Where?"

"Around." Short secretive answers, that's all anyone ever got from Derek anyway.

The sheriff stood up and crossed his arms, obviously not interested in beating around the bush. "And you met Stiles?"

I nodded, "he was being attacked by a mountain lion. I drove it off, and I was helping him bind the wound when the lightning struck."

Dad mulled over this for a moment before sighing, "Ok, you can leave."

"Thanks," I stood up out of the bed somewhat clumsily because I wasn't used to being Derek yet. He's pretty tall, and it was different being a head taller than I was used to. I almost forgot Derek's jacket on my way to the door. I knew I should probably just leave, that would be the Derek thing to do, but I had to find out how my body was doing first. So I waited for my dad in the hallway.

"How's Stiles?" I asked.

The sheriff sighed, "He lost a lot of blood, the doctor's not sure when he'll come around."

I nodded and Dad left and went into one of the other rooms.

I didn't know what to do. I wanted to stick around so that I could tell Derek in my body what was happening. On the other hand that would be extremely out of character. Plus I really wasn't sure what to do with myself. I mean, now that I was Derek I couldn't just go hang out at my house really. Derek would go to the Hale place, and it gave me the creeps.

Did Derek really need me to be around when he woke up? He would be mad when he realized what had happened, and I sure didn't want to be around then, even if I was the bigger one now. Then I got to thinking and realized, didn't Derek have that sweet car? I shifted through the leather jacket's pockets and found a set of keys. Hell yeah Derek had that sweet car! Grinning, I walked out of the hospital. This was going to be awesome.


	3. Chapter Three: A Change of View

Again I would like to start out by thanking my reviewers: Guest one- Thanks, and you're waiting is over! Guest two- thanks so much for saying that I know how Stiles thinks! I really tried to get my Stiles voice. Jag013- thanks so much! And colorful-POP- Thanks, and yeah, Derek's going ape! Also I need to say that this is the first fic in a while that I've actually been super excited to write… I just can't wait to start the next chapter!

Chapter Three: A Change of View

I came conscious slowly. I could tell I was somewhere unfamiliar, so I kept my eyes shut and focused on my other senses. Something was off kilter with my hearing, there was a loud ringing, I tried to focus on the other muffled sounds I heard, but couldn't. My nose was having the same sort of issue. I couldn't scent anything but disinfectant and charred hair. Something horribly wrong had happened. I tried to string together bits and pieces of memory to figure out what. Something with the Alpha…

Ugh, my arm hurt. Had the Alpha managed to get a swipe on me or something? I should have healed by now even if he did.

I had to know where I was, and figure out what was going on, so I opened my eyes.

The brightness of the room made me wince. I realized there was something wrong with my face. The features felt like they contorted all wrong. I lifted my eyelids slower this time, so that I could get used to the light.

I was on a hospital cot. Some big machine sat next to it, and I could almost hear its beeps over the ringing in my ears. The room wouldn't stay in one place long enough for me to see it, instead it kept sliding around, or maybe that was me on the bed. I blinked to make the spinning stop, but it just got faster.

What was wrong with me?

My stomach wasn't appreciating the view any more than I was. I sat up quickly when I felt it heaving, and vomited on the floor. At least that gave me something to focus on so the spinning stopped. I hadn't eaten since that morning, so where had all that come from?

"Stiles?" A voiced called over the ringing.

Stiles! A memory tried to resurface, but I was too busy retching to concentrate.

Someone shuffled over to me with a metal pan, but it was all over by then. I lay back against the bed suddenly exhausted.

Sheriff Stilinski was leaning over me, saying something, but I couldn't make it out. He put his hand on my forehead and patted my knee. Then he sat the barf pan on my lap and left. Nothing made any sense. I thought that maybe this whole thing was some sort of hallucination, but the pain in my arm was too real, and so was the vomit.

What had happened to me? The Alpha, something with the Alpha, and Stiles. It suddenly all came back: trailing the Alpha through the woods, fighting it off after it attacked Stiles, getting the venom out of his wound, and then the lightning… Something must have happened.

I closed my eyes and tried to even out my breathing, suddenly afraid I might faint. Why was I so weak all of the sudden?

My stomach started rolled. I looked down at the metal pan quickly, but what I saw in its reflective surface made me swallow the bile rising in my throat. No. I shook my head at the image wishing it would change, but the same pale face just copied my movements. Still staring, I raised my arm. It was swathed in bandages right where the Alpha had clawed him. The other arm had tubes running in and out of it, but it was just as pale and thin. I ran a hand over the face I was now trapped behind, from the chin all the way to the stubble hair on top of the head.

I was going to kill him. As soon as I got back into my own skin, I was going to kill him!

"Ah Stiles, you're awake," A doctor walked into the room flanked by Sheriff Stilinski and a nurse.

"Where's Derek?" The voice I used was barely a whisper, wheezy and weak.

Stilinski stood by the foot of the bed, and put a hand on my knee. "He's alright. He left a few hours ago."

"He left!" Anger swelled through Stiles' pathetic frame, "where'd he go?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask him," the sheriff muttered.

"ERGH!" I clenched my fists so hard I thought a bone might break. What the hell was he thinking? He didn't have the first clue about survival. He wasn't trained on how to defend himself against the Argents or the Alpha. He was going to get my body killed. When I got my hands on that ignoramus… "I'm going to kill him!"

The people in my room got very quiet. Obviously, no one had expected this type of reaction from that stupid pathetic wuss Stiles. The nurse, who'd been cleaning up the vomit, stopped to stare at me with a gaping mouth. Sheriff Stilinski tightened his hold on me.

"Did Hale hurt you?"

I turned angry eyes towards him. I'd never liked the sheriff at the best of times and this was far from it. "No, he didn't hurt me, but I bet he's starting to wish he had! You'd better unplug me," I warned the nurse, "before I get very, very unpleasant."

She exchanged a look with Sheriff Stilinski, who patted my leg. "Calm down son," he soothed, "it's going to be ok."

I snarled, but it sounded really pathetic in Stiles' voice. That's when I caught sight of the doctor from the corner of my eye. He had a syringe and was headed towards my IV. I thrashed, but the sheriff held me down. Stiles' body was weak. I could only growl and curse as I watched the tranquilizer slide down the tube into my arm. It took a moment to take effect, once it did I collapsed.


	4. Chapter Four: Two for One

Hello readers! Here is the next chapter. I'm going to thank all the reviewers again. Angelofthewaves- Thanks so much! I hope this next chapter keeps to the pattern. Jag013- Thanks! Guest- I'm glad you like Derek's point of view, it's a little harder to get his voice because they don't show enough of him in the show. I want to the see an "Origins of Derek" special or something. Come on MTV! Colorful-POP- Here is more! I'm glad you're enjoying the fic so much. Rosejoanna- Glad you like it!

Also, I'm afraid you all will have to wait a bit longer for an update this time. Saturday is Shabbat, and then there's a LONG fast on Sunday, so there probably won't be anything else new until Monday. In light of this, I have combined two chapters to give you more to read. Sorry, and hope the suspense isn't too great. I hope everybody has a great weekend!

Chapter Four: Two for One

Cruising in Derek's car was amazing. I had the radio pumping and was jamming out to every song. I'd been pretty hungry when I came out of the hospital, so I stopped at one of those twenty four hour truck stops and picked up a couple of hotdogs. I'd found Derek's wallet, with a credit card and driver's license that showed I was legal. So now there was a case of beers bouncing merrily along in the front seat. Being Derek rocked.

It was four thirty in the morning, and mine was the only car on the road. I didn't stay in town long though; instead I drove back out into the woods. I parked the car and opened a beer. That's when I noticed that Derek's car had a phone in it, and I got a great idea.

I put it on speaker and dialed Scott. His phone rang about fifteen times. I keep getting his voice mail and then hung up and called again. "Come on Scott," I griped, "pick up!"

"Hello?" A drowsy voice yawned.

"Scott, it's Derek,"

"Derek?" He sounded completely out of it, "It's four in the morning."

"You'd better bet your werewolf behind it's four in the morning! You're TWO hours late, Scott, TWO hours."

"Late for what? We're not training at four in the morning." He mumbled and yawned again. "Whatever it is, can't it wait 'till the afternoon?"

"Sure it can wait," I agreed, "I'm sure you need your beauty sleep, and everything, Scott. Never mind that you talked Stiles into meeting you at two A.M. so that he could help you practice your control against the Alpha. Never mind that the Alpha showed when you didn't and almost ripped Stiles' arm off… Never mind that if Derek hadn't been there, there probably wouldn't be any of Stiles left at all…"

"Wait, Stiles got attacked?"

"Yes!" My G-d that took long enough.

"Is he OK?"

"He got mauled by a werewolf, Scott. Why do you think he'd be OK?"

"Is he at the hospital?" I could hear material getting jerked around as Scott pulled on some clothes.

I thought about it, "His body is."

"His BODY?" There was a crash on Scott's end. "How… Why… No, he can't be…."

"Uh, he isn't." I corrected quickly, "Stiles is still alive."

Scott let out a breath, "Oh thank G-d, then what's all this stuff about a body?"

"Oh, well you see there was sort of an accident. See, after the Alpha attacked Stiles there was this storm and both me and him got stuck by lightning…"

"G-d, Derek, please talk straight just this once!"

"OK, fine, Stiles and Derek switched bodies." I held up both index fingers and then crossed my arms.

Even though Scott couldn't see the accompanying hand gesture, he seemed to get it. "Wow, ok, so you're..?"

"I'm Stiles' mind in Derek's body," I announced as I drained the beer can and crushed it against my forehead, I'd always wanted to do that. "And dude, just so you know, it's freaking awesome!"

"And Derek's in your body at the hospital?"

"Yeah," I sighed and smiled darkly, "I bet he's not too happy about that."

I heard Scott's window open, "You just left him there?" There was a grunt as he landed outside.

I took a gulp of my second beer, "I was trying to stay in character, and Derek would never hang around the hospital being worried about Stiles."

Scott groaned, "OK, where are you?"

"I'm in the woods in Derek's car."

"The woods? Do you think that's the best place to be, with the Alpha and everything?"

"Huh, when Derek got through with him, the Alpha practically ran off with his tail tucked between his legs! He won't be sticking his head up around these parts for a long while." I chuckled and finished off my can. Just as I was reaching for another, something tapped against the window. I looked up right into a set of glowing red eyes. Oh crap, speak of the devil! I smiled disarmingly, "Heya there Alpha old buddy, old pal, want a beer?"

The beast opened its wide jaws and roared, spattering the glass with spit.

/

When I next woke up, it only took me a few moments to get my bearings. There was no ringing this time, and the dizziness had passed. Stiles' body was still very weak though. I opened my eyes slowly, and noticed a large wet spot on the pillow by my chin. Apparently Stiles drooled in his sleep, lovely. I scratched the crust from my cheek, and looked around.

I was still in the same generic hospital room with the machines and tubes. Only this time there was a folding chair pulled up next to my bed, and Stillinski was sleeping in it. A trail of spit ran down from the corner of his mouth. Like father, like son, I thought.

The vomit pan was still on my lap. I picked it up and studied the reflection again. I realized now that the only way I would be able to get out of here was by playing Stiles. And I needed to get out of here so I could kill him; the sooner, the better.

The Sheriff stirred, and woke up. "Oh Stiles, you're up," He yawned.

I sat the metal dish to one side, "yeah,"

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired," I rubbed at the sleep in my eyes and rolled my tongue around my mouth. "Could you get me a drink of water or something? My whole mouth tastes like vomit."

"Sure."

As soon as he left the room I rubbed my face roughly. Think like an idiot kid, I warned myself. Like an idiot kid!

The sheriff came back then with a breakfast tray. "I didn't know if you were hungry. If you're not up to eating, I might tackle it." He handed me a glass of water. "Why don't you start with that and see how you feel?"

I took a sip. That was better. The vomit taste became more dilated with each swallow. I managed to down all of it in a few gulps. "Thanks," I handed back the empty glass.

He let me have a muffin and some orange juice. He hovered over me, drinking coffee and watching every move I made with a wary expression. Time to show him Stiles was back to normal.

"Hey Dad," I said in-between nibbles on the muffin, "I'm sorry about what happened before. I don't know why I got so mad."

"It's ok," he patted my shoulder, "the doctor said it was just a reaction to the lightning strike. Something about increased irritability and anger…"

"Oh." I drained the last of the juice and then leaned back against the bed again. It infuriated me how easily this body got tired. The blood loss was taking a heavy toll, but then again, so was the tranquilizer. "How long do you think I'll have to stay here?"

He took the glass from my limp fingers. "Not much longer. The doctor said if everything went well you should be able to go home this afternoon."

"That's good," I yawned. Better enjoy life while you can Stiles, I thought, because the moment I get out of here it's butt kicking time.


	5. Chapter five: Belated

Heya everyone! This is the next chapter. I'm sorry it took a little longer to get out. I want to thank the people who reviewed. Colorful-POP: Sorry it's a bit late, and thanks! Jag013: Stiles in Derek's body is tons of fun to write too. And I really appreciate the awesomeness of your reviews, thanks! Rosejoanna: Glad it gives you a chuckle and thanks for the review. Alallow1: Thanks so much for the great review, and I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Alright everyone, here goes the next chapter.

Chapter Five: Belated

Oh G-d I'm dead! I thought as I stared into the Alpha's open mouth. There was no way Scott would get here in time. The whole thing had an odd sense of déjà vu about it, because it had just happened a few hours ago!

Tired of waiting for me to come out, the Alpha slapped the car back handed. It almost flipped. I pictured Derek's response to somebody letting his car get trashed, and knew I didn't want to be that somebody. I gave myself a pep talk as I scooted over to the passenger's side. "Ok Stiles, this is it. You finally have a chance to be batman, so don't blow it." I popped open the door and rolled out on to the forest floor.

The Alpha noticed me and snarled.

Ok it was now or never. "Change into a wolf, Stiles," I told myself, "change into a wolf." I had no idea how to. I pictured the way Scott's face looked when he was the wolf, and thought about Derek's stretching that way.

Dropping to all fours the beast began to stalk towards me. I backed up.

Scott always turned when his heart rate got really high. Mine was already slamming against my rib cage like it was trying to break free and get out of here. Random images of shape shifters from television shows and movies started playing through my mind. I began shouting every phrase for transformation I knew. To sort of inspire me, I guess. "Freak out! It's morphing time! Filigree apogee- Oh crap I forgot the rest!" On second thought, the spell for turning into a rabbit probably wasn't the way to go anyway.

None of it was working! The Alpha leapt at me claws and teeth glistening. Suddenly something changed, I think instinct took over. Everything went red, kind of like I was looking through night vision goggles. I dodged out of the way as the Alpha slammed down. Leaves flew through the air from his impact. I shook my head at him and snarled. I, Stiles, snarled and it sounded pretty damn cool.

Sharp fangs brushed up against my lips and claws grew from my fingertips. "Oh yeah," I grinned, "bring it punk!" I flicked my hand at the Alpha.

He jumped again and I sprang to meet his attack. It was like a battle scene from a movie. Only in a movie they have stunt doubles and you can't get ribs slashed open. I landed heavily on my wound with a grunt. My opponent of course was perfectly fine except for a scratch on the side of his face. He came down on all four legs like a cat.

Note to self, I thought as I got back on my feet, style takes a backseat in real fights. I was bleeding, but I could already feel the wound starting to heal. It itched.

With a howl, the Alpha charged at me. I side stepped and tried to put a little distance between us. Since the Alpha was the size of a bear this didn't really work as well as I'd hoped. His claws raked the back of my knee as I ran, and I fell.

The open fangs shot towards me. And suddenly Scott was there. He swiped the side of the Alpha's muzzle and roared. The beast clawed at him, but Scott got out of the way. He retreated from its blows, leading it away from me until the two of them disappeared into the trees.

I sagged against the leaves covering the ground and panted. G-d. My heart was pumping so fast I couldn't even tell one beat from the next. My fingers dug into the dirt. Slowly, I felt my claws retract. Derek's teeth returned to normal.

"Stiles!" Scott shouted. I raised my head weakly to see him running toward me, human again. He skidded to a stop at my side, "Are you Ok?"

I looked up at him. I could feel the blood on my side, and what was left of the wound itched like mad. "Scott, that was epic!"

"Are you crazy? You almost got yourself killed back there!"

"Yeah I know," I pushed myself onto my elbows with a groan. "But I phased Scott, I was a wolf!"

Scott slapped my forehead, "Derek was a wolf, you idiot! You were being Stiles the whole time back at the hospital."

"Ok, way to ruin the coolest thing that's ever happened to me." I grumbled as I sat up.

The sun was starting to rise. So there was a sort of grey light, not enough to see colors by, but enough to highlight shapes.

"You got cut?" This was an accusation. Scott's hands hovered over my side.

I pushed him aside and raised my blood soaked shirt, "it healed."

"Well, Thank G-d for that!" Scott fumed, throwing up his arms and starting to pace.

"Dude, I don't get what the big deal is, you and Derek get hurt all the time. I mean just two weeks ago I almost got the pleasure of sawing his arm off…" I cringed at the memory.

My friend glowered at me. "That is the big deal, Stiles! This isn't some comic book, or movie or whatever. This is real life! People can get mortally wounded and die. That day, with the bullet, Derek almost died. You can't keep treating this whole thing like it's your own personal videogame. Because guess what, Stiles, here you only get one life!"

Wow. That was a pretty long speech for Scott. He only talks that much when he's mad. I watched him pace; his eyes were glowing ever so slightly. "There's no bonus round either." I pointed out.

Scott stared daggers at me.

"And you have to admit a pause button would come in handy."

"Stiles!"

I raised my hands, "Ok dude, I get it. No more horseplay from Stiles."

One side of Scott's mouth tugged up, "Just use your head more." He offered me his hand, and helped pull me to my feet. "I think from now on you should keep out of the woods."

"Yeah, I think so too. At least, until you teach me how to fight…"

He stared at me for a full five minutes without saying anything. "Man, it's so weird hearing Derek's voice speak Stiles. It's really freaky."

I shrugged, "Sure you don't mean freakishly awesome?"

"Pretty sure, yeah,"

"Just checking," I scuffed my boot on the side of a boulder.

Scott studied the leaves on the forest floor, and then surveyed those still on the trees. "Is it weird, being somebody else?"

"Yeah, when I really stop and think about it. But when I don't, it rocks."

"How's it rock?"

I grinned, "Let's see," I glanced up at the oncoming dawn, and held up one counted the reasons off on my fingers, "Sweet car, beer, being a werewolf, no school and, oh yeah, no chemistry."

"Chemistry! Aw, man!"

Sighing, I rolled my eyes, "You didn't study! You didn't bother to come meet me at two a.m. AND you didn't study. Good God Scott, what were you doing?"

He looked very uncomfortable and pinkish.

I arched my eyebrow at him. "You'd better not say Alison, buddy. Because if you do, Stiles, trapped in Derek werewolf's body, will be forced to tear you throat out. What happened to bros before-" I caught his look and changed tactics, "I mean, how dare you turn your back on your wolfiness by being with an Argent girl! Oh, the blasphemy!"

Growling jokingly, Scott took a swipe at me managed to get me in a headlock. I'm pretty sure I let him do it. I could have got out of it, if I'd wanted to. He rubbed his other fist into the top of my head.

"Ah, Scott, cut it out!"

He stopped and shoved me away. "I got to hand it to you Stiles, you're really good at getting in character."

I mock bowed, "thank you, thank you."

"But now what are we going to do with you?" He wondered, "You can't stay here, you can't go to school…"

"And I sure as hell am not going to the Hale place."

"Don't blame you." He shook bits of leaves off his shirt, "I guess you should just find some place to lay low for now, until we can talk to Derek."

I snapped out of envisioning epic hideouts. "Why do we need to talk to Derek?"

Scott sighed, "Because Stiles, I'm pretty sure he'll want his body back."

"Oh, well, maybe you could take care of that on your own. I mean we don't want me to seem out of character or anything." I was slowly backing up to the car, hopefully without him noticing.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Stiles?" So much for him not noticing.

I gave a quick shrug. "Nothing, it's just I've never been Derek's favorite person. And I have a feeling that now I may have sunk to new lows of 'hated'. What with me stealing his body and all… Plus I'm really not interested in bodily harm, even if I am in a loaned model."

A look of puzzlement spread across Scott's face. "But he's trapped in your body, there's no way he could-"

I held up my hand to cut him off, "Scott, you remember that saying, 'where there's a will, there's a way'? Well, Derek perfected that. I don't think being Stiles is going to slow him down that much."

There was a moment's pause while Scott considered this. Then he nodded, "Point made."


	6. Chapter Six: Sedative

Wow. All I can say right now is wow. That and I think I was crazy to start writing this thing without a plot, because this story keeps pulling some really odd tricks on me (mostly cartwheels and backflips). It's not going at all like I expected. Anyway, thanks to everyone that reviewed since the last chapter. So thanks colorful-POP for the review, and here's Jonny! (Or at least Derek in Stiles' body) Lima: Sorry about that, the G-d thing is one of my tics. I just don't like to write His name out, so that way it can't be erased or anything. Glad you like the story. Angelofthewaves: thanks so much! Comicfan: glad you're enjoying it and thanks! 17BrazilianBabe: Here is more!

Chapter Six: Sedative

A pill lay on a napkin on the table top. There was a glass of water beside it. It was a smallish oval pill, which could have easily been mistaken for candy. I could see why they had to keep them in a child proof container. I tried to read the label wrapped around it from where I sat, but couldn't. Aside from me, in the room were the doctor from earlier and Stilinski both of them were watching me expectantly. The room was silent except for the ticking of a wall clock, and the tapping of Doctor Cohen's fingers.

"Well?" the doctor asked.

I crossed my arms and tilted my chair back, "I'm not taking it."

Cohen sat up straight, and from his seat next to me, the sheriff sighed.

"Stiles," the doctor told me, "Like I already explained, we're willing to let you leave right now. You're free to go home. See I have the release form all ready," He held up a slip of paper. "All you have to do is agree to take the prescription I gave you." He waited for me to answer. When I didn't, he continued. "Or, if you refuse to take the prescription, I will have to keep you over night and then you WILL take it in an IV, whether you want to or not."

I tried to keep my eyes from narrowing, "But I'm back to normal already!" I protested, "I only messed up that once, and since then I've been on my best behavior!" I gripped the desk leg in front of me to keep from leaping across it. I wasn't sure if Stiles' body could pull off a stunt like that. But if I didn't anchor myself to something I knew I'd try it.

Cohen gave me a skeptical look, "be that as it may, Stiles, your father and I don't think you're up to your normal self yet. So for the next two days or so, I'd like you to take the sedatives I proscribed."

The glass and pill advanced towards me. If I flipped the table, I reasoned, I could probably make it through the window before they could stop me. But no, then they'd lock me into a mental house for sure. Remember, you're just a kid.

That gave me an idea, I appealed to the sheriff. "Dad, don't make me take it." I begged, "Being on those things makes me feel dead inside, like a zombie." I went for a pity face, furrowing my brow and giving slight tugs to my bottom lip.

Stilinski looked torn, "Stiles, I think it would be better, after what happened, if you go ahead and take it, just for a little longer." Concern was all over his face.

I looked at the pill, and then sighed. "I guess it won't kill me." I popped the pink tablet and washed it down with a gulp of water. Instantly, a wave of drowsiness engulfed me. Stupid persuasive mind! You just swallowed it. The sedative can't already be getting to you.

I hate those pills. It's hard to explain why. Obviously there's the induced sleep, but it goes beyond that. They really do make me feel numb, like I'm in a haze. I can't stand that. What limited human senses Stiles has get even punier and it's hard to think straight. Emotions aren't nearly as strong either. I suppose it's because so much of me is made of anger now. Once that gets stripped away, it's easy for me to lose myself. To lose my purpose.

After the release forms had been signed, Stilinski stood up and accepted the orange pill bottle from the doctor. "Thanks Doc. Come on, Stiles."

I got up and followed him, while trying to persuade myself that Stiles' walk was no more plodding than before.

"There's some steps here, Stiles," the Sheriff warned as we made our way to the parking lot.

"I'm sedated, not drunk." I reminded him.

He didn't say anything else for a while, which was fine by me. We got into the police cruiser. It wasn't my first time in the Sheriff's car, but it was the first sitting shotgun. I watched the scenery flash by out the window, while my mind plotted what I would do when I met up with Stiles.

I would probably break his legs. They would heal after all.

"You're awfully quiet, son." Stilinski observed.

Maybe an arm too. "I'm tired,"

"Seem to have lost your sarcasm too. I haven't heard one witty remark from you all day."

"'S probably the sedative," I slurred, resting my chin on my hand. I could break all his bones, one by one. Naw, that was a bit too far.

I saw Stilinski grin from the corner of my eye, "maybe we should keep you on those all the time." My panicked expression made him continue hurriedly, "just a joke Stiles." He turned his attention back to the road, and started mumbling under his breath. I caught a couple of pieces, "personality change…Boy, they weren't kidding…Boy howdy…"

He gave me a concerned smile. I returned a small grin, afraid that he might get worried enough about Stiles to take me back to the hospital or something.

We were driving past a strip mall when Stilinski parked the car impulsively. "Hey, Stiles," He said, "How about some ice-cream?"

"Ice-cream?" I echoed. I can't remember the last time I'd said that.

"Yeah," he enthused, "remember in sixth grade when I used to take you to your orthodontist appointments and on the way back we'd have a couple of scoops?"

"Sure." I hedged.

"Well, this is the same Baskin-Robins. What do you think, maybe for old time's sake?"

The idea of going into an ice cream parlor set me on edge. I looked out at the gray sky. The Sheriff saw where I was going, "I know it's not the right season, but it's always a good time for ice-cream. Heck, that's sort of the unofficial Stilinski family motto."

To my shock, I found myself smiling. Stupid sedative. "Alright," It would probably set his mind at ease anyway, and I approved of anything that would keep me away from Doctor Cohen.

Pleased, the sheriff led me into the Baskin-Robins. I couldn't remember ever being in a store like that. Everything was either pink or blue. The workers were eerily cheerful in their striped aprons as the fussed over the huge tubs of ice-cream behind the domed glass counters. There were too many flavors too count, some of them barely looked edible they were such bizarre colors.

Stilinski rubbed his hands together, "Well son, what will it be?"

I looked around for something plain and consumable. "Um…"

"Do you want your usual?" the Sheriff winked at me.

"Sure," It was the safest way to go without arousing suspicion.

He chuckled and patted my shoulder. "Why don't you go get us a table while I order?"

I nodded, and went and sat down in a metal stool next to a small table. My mind was getting foggy already. For lack of something to do, I picked at the bandage on my arm. It took humans forever to heal. The arm still hurt when I moved it.

"Here we go," A bowl of pink ice-cream was set on the table. It didn't look so bad. I tried to move it closer to me, but Stilinski stopped me, "This is mine, yours is coming." He told me as he sat down, "and Stiles, don't start in on the calorie counting thing, this cherry stuff is only one step ahead of sorbet and I won't touch that crap."

He took a bite of the ice-cream, "Not bad, but it's no rocky road."

I forced a lopsided grin.

"Arm hurting?" He asked.

"No, just tired." I rested my chin on the table.

Stilinski nodded understandingly, "Well don't worry about that, your sundae's coming and there's enough sugar in that to kill a horse. If that doesn't give you a jump start I don't know what will."

I sat up to see the cashier bringing what I could only assume was my order. It was huge. It was ice-cream. It was covered in caramel and fudge and topped with whipped cream and balls of cookie dough. I watched open mouthed as it was set in front of me.

"Here you go," The cashier said, obviously pleased with my reaction, "our chocolate chip cookie dough ice-cream sundae. Enjoy."

I didn't seem to be able to find the muscles that moved my jaw. The sheriff chuckled, "Bringing back memories?"

"Yeah," I managed to mumble finally, "it's a miracle I have any teeth left." I studied the thing from all sides. "Are you sure it's edible?"

A liberal spoonful of cherries jubilee disappeared into the sheriff's mouth. "It's as edible as one thousand calories of goodness can be. Go ahead, dig in," He added, noticing my hesitation, "I didn't buy it for you to look at."

Carefully, I picked up my spoon and scooped up one of the cookie dough balls. I scrutinized it before putting it into my mouth. It was cold and sticky and sweet. The chocolate chips crunched and the dough squished. It was the first cookie I'd eaten in a long time, raw or otherwise. Next to the hospital food I'd had that morning, it tasted like Eden.

"I would ask you how it is," the sheriff said, "but the answer's all over your face."

I looked up at him briefly before shoveling the whip cream into my mouth. Thanksgiving and picnic images flashed through my mind. Next I tried the caramel and suddenly remembered digging candies out of my mother's purse when I little. The ice-cream reminded me of summer days spent turning the crank on our old ice-cream maker. I hadn't thought about any of that since I'd left Becon Hills. It felt like a life time ago. Before the fire…

"Hey there's Argent!" Silinski's call brought me back to reality hard. I almost choked on my mouthful of sundae.

Argent was half way through the door by the time I looked up. Adrenalin shot through my body and it took all my will power to stay seated. I gripped the spoon so hard that termers ran up and down Stiles' arm.

The hunter noticed us, "Sheriff Stilinski," He came inside and held the door open.

"Cut it out, Chris, you know I hate that chivalrous crap."

Stiles' vocal cords vibrated. I gripped the table top and slid the rounded human nails across its surface. There was no chance of me controlling my anger this time. When Kate Argent entered the store it was like I'd never taken a sedative.


	7. Chapter Seven: Killing Time

I am back again in the land of Fandom, with another chapter. As usual, I will be starting out with my thanks speech. Comicfan: Thanks again, I hope you find this chapter just as satisfactory –though it's not nearly as exciting- xMissxSpunkyx: I hope you don't mind the Stiles interjection so much and thanks! Guest: You're very welcome for daddysherif, and don't fear there will be more of him. Rosejoanna: Kate is dead in season two, but since this fic takes place in season one she's still kicking. Which means lots of trouble for our guys.

Chapter Seven: Killing Time

After considering multiple hideouts, I decided to check into a hotel. I know it's not the most secretive thing ever, but I'd decided to use it as a base. I'd already spent a long boring morning in Derek's car thinking so by then I was starting to get a little stir crazy.

I paced back and forth in the hotel room, and in intervals, plopped down on the bed. There was nothing to do! I thought about going to the hospital to check on Derek. He was in my body now after all. G-d, I hoped he hadn't screwed anything up yet. Knowing him he had probably busted out, hot-wired a car, and was now gunning for me.

I wondered how much a broken bone really hurt. Probably enough.

Restlessly, I got to my feet again and made the circle from the bathroom, to the closet to the door, and finally back to the bed again. I pulled out Derek's phone and texted Scott, 'any news on me?'

His answer was quick, 'No, I called your phone but it just kept ringing.'

I pictured a hospital wastebasket vibrating and playing my ringtone. 'Going out of my mind with boredom,' I wrote Scott.

'At least you're not in economics.'

I flopped backwards onto the bed, and bounced along with the aftershock. The remote landed by my hand. I turned on the TV and flipped through some channels. Ugh! I turned it off and went back to pacing. There had to be something I could do. I was supposed to stay away from the woods and anywhere the Argents might be… I thought about the Hale place.

Ever since I first ran into Derek I hadn't trusted him. He was just too secretive, and now that I had a chance to learn about him, why not? I started by emptying all his pockets. There wasn't much, just the key ring, the wallet and a toothpick. I guess Derek likes to travel light.

There were four keys. One was the car key, and another looked like a house key. I couldn't see the point in locking the door of a burnt out shell. Maybe he carried it for sentimental reasons. The third was a skeleton key, which had potential. The last one was small and funny shaped, like it was for roller-skates or a diary. I smirked at the thought of Derek having a diary. It would be handy if he did put all his thoughts and reasoning on paper though.

I had already been through his wallet, but I scanned it again. There was the credit card, his driver's license, and a couple of bills. I pulled everything out and checked for a secret compartment. Nothing.

The toothpick seemed to be a standard one too.

I wondered what I would find at the Hale place. Would it as bare as his pockets, or would there be some telltale signs of werewolfness lying around? More importantly, would I be able to finally figure out if Derek was a good guy or not?

Since the only way I could get an answer was to go, that's what I did.

The Hale house looked the same as it always did, deserted and burnt. I scanned the area before I got out of the car, just to be on the safe side. There was no sign of the Alpha, or the Argents. You don't see much of either during the daylight hours.

As I walked up the porch steps, I couldn't help casting glances at where me and Scott had dug up Laura Hale's body. It sent shivers up my spine being back here.

I pushed the charred door open. Dust motes drifted in and out of the huge patches of sunlight from the windows and missing sections of wall. Everything was still and quiet. I stepped inside, my footfalls muted by the carpet of ash.

I took myself on a tour of the house. "Yap," I announced just to hear something, "it looks like there's been a fire in here." Two main rooms were intact downstairs. Both were empty except for the odd drape covered chair, but that was all it. I walked along the perimeter of the rooms, letting my hand trail along the wall. Along one I found deed claw marks going from the ceiling to the floorboards. I followed the impressions. "Derek's scratching post,"

It still struck me as odd that Derek chose to live out here. Scott had told me how the Argents had supposedly burnt it down to kill the Hales. Maybe he staid here as an act of defiance, living in the same house they'd tried to exterminate him in. That made sense.

I walked up the stairs to the second floor cautiously, because the boards looked like they'd snap if you stood on them wrong. Luckily, they held. The upstairs was worse off than the down. The back walls were missing from most of the rooms. It was like standing in a pyromaniac's dollhouse.

Whenever I inhaled, the burnt wood smell almost made me gag. When I touched a charred wall, it left a hand print. I couldn't see anything to show that anyone was living here. Then I came to the last room, and found Derek's camp.

There was a sleeping bag rolled out against the remaining wall, there was also about twenty two liter water bottles and a wooden chest. That was all. I tried to open the chest, and found it was locked. The skeleton key from Derek's key ring fit the lock though, so I opened it.

A stack of brown plastic covered squares lay inside. I picked one up to study it. 'Meal ready to eat' was printed along its side. "MREs?" I exclaimed, "This guy's been living on MREs?" I noticed the flavor, "meatloaf with gravy. Oy, my condolences Derek,"

I checked the rest of the crate. But there wasn't anything in it but the rations.

"I guess that's it," I mused sinking down onto the sleeping bag, "No photo albums, no journals, and no keepsakes. Just the barebones it takes to get by." I shouldn't have really expected any of those things, after all it was Derek.

I pulled out the phone and texted Scott, 'At the Hale place, nothing to see here.'

It took Scott along time to write back, I was watching trees sway in the wind through the gaping hole in the wall when the phone vibrated in my hands. '….' Scott had written, 'dude, your dad just called me. It's not good.'

I started typing when the next message came. 'Going to the hospital, meet me there."

Damn it! G-d, what had Derek done? I leaped to my feet and rushed down the stairs. I could feel the wood straining under my weight but just kept right on going. I was almost outside when the phone vibrated again.

'Hope you have a high threshold for pain' the text read. I recognized the number it was sent from, because it was my own. Great.


	8. Chapter Eight: Anger

Hello people and here is chapter eight. And yes, I've just thrown all hopes of a plot out, because it's not going to happen! This is just going to be spontaneous all the way. I'd like to thank the reviewers. Colorful-POP: This is what Derek did! Jag013: thanks for the review! Angelofthewater: Yes, I have been told about cliffhangers, but sometimes for the sake of the story, you've got to think nasty. Lol. Comicfan: Sorry for killing you there. I'm glad you enjoyed seeing Derek's place. Thanks for the review!

Chapter Eight: Anger

No one really seemed to notice me. Argent was chatting with Stilinski, and Kate was studying an overhead menu. No one ever paid attention to Stiles, but it was just as well. Kate. I could swear I was seeing in red wolf vision. My heartbeat was loud in my ears. I'd been raised better than to consider eating human flesh, but I was almost willing to make an exception for her. It would be satisfying to rip out her heart and squeeze it to pulp between my jaws.

"Stiles!"

I turned my glare to the sheriff. He blinked in surprise at my expression, and muttered, "I was just talking to Chris about that cougar attack."

Argent looked at me with interest, "did it bite you?"

Across the room, I noticed Kate turn slightly in my direction.

I stared at Argent, hoping that somehow I could burn a hole through his head. Then I very slowly raised my upper lip, but it wasn't to smile. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious," He shifted his position. Kate took a step towards the table.

"Funny how you just happen to be concerned now,"

"Stiles, it hasn't ever been an hour yet." The Sheriff muttered, taking the pill bottle from his pocket. "He hasn't been himself since the attack." Damn straight. He fished out one on the pills and passed it across the table to me. "You take that."

My focus staid on Argent's forehead, while I ground the pill to dust with my thumb, "Apparently I have anger management issues." I swept away the residue. "Do you get angry, Argent? Angry enough to kill?"

His right hand disappeared deep into his jacket pocket and Kate twisted her arm around her back.

"Not humans of course," I continued, "just animals, maybe cougars… Or wolves."

"Wow Kay," Stilinski exhaled, "I think that's enough sundae for you." He turned to Argent, "I'm really sorry Chris, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Once he flies off the handle like this, it takes me awhile to calm him down."

Argent kept his gaze on me, "Alright," he said, "I hope you feel better, Stiles. Let's go, Kate."

"Our ice coffee isn't ready yet," She complained.

Argent started towards the door, "I said, let's go."

Reluctantly, she followed. She wanted to take care of me right then and there. I could tell from the way her shoulders tensed and her hand lingered on the protrusion from her back waistband. I wanted her dead just as badly. Why had I drained the venom from Stiles' arm? Kate turned to look at me before going outside. She flashed a white smile and winked. "See you around, Stiles."

I passed the wink back, "my place next time."

For a second her face whitened, then she jerked open the door and left.

"What is wrong with you, Stiles?!" the sheriff exclaimed.

I laid my head down on the table top, almost upsetting the half full sundae cup. "I feel awful, Dad," I groaned, "I think I'm hallucinating or something." Stiles' body might not have been able to hear decently or grow claws, but it could manage a pretty good gassy burp. "Ugh, I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Oh G-d,"

"Is he OK?" the cashier squeaked, holding up a serving tray like a shield. "There's a bathroom down the hall, or maybe you should let him get some fresh air outside?" From her tone she obviously preferred me leaving.

I did too. I stood up shakily, and then bolted through the door with Stilinski at my heels.

The Argents were talking by their car. I caught the end of conversation. "You're sure?" Chris asked. Kate nodded, "we found our second Beta." Then they both shut up and watched me.

I leaned against the stores' brick wall and panted, going through the whole 'sick kid' routine for Stilinski.

"Stiles?" He asked.

I started to slide down the wall and groaned, "I feel awful."

The sheriff had his phone out, dialing. "Sit down," he ordered me, "put your head between your knees and breathe. I'm going to pull the car around." He jogged off into the parking lot, casting glances over his shoulder, "Don't you faint on me."

Slowly, I lowered myself to the ground and stared at the Argents. They started to whisper excitedly between themselves. Kate looked especially happy. The police cruiser pulled up and cut off my view. Stilinski got out of the driver's side. He was shouting into the phone.

"Why the hell would you give him medication to cure aggression that one of the side effects of is aggression? Where's the point in that?!" The other person on the line said something, but the sheriff wouldn't listen, "I'm bringing him in, and you'd better have a better explanation by the time I get there!" He cut off the call with a fierce thumb stoke.

"Come on, Stiles." He bent down next to me and helped me too my feet. I let him guide me over to the passenger's side. Once he got in, he rolled down my window. I folded Stiles' body against the car seat and rested my head against the window frame t to watch the Argents. Chris had his phone out, and Kate was antsy, fingering the car door handle.

The sheriff started up the car, and with the alarm blaring, he drove to the hospital. "Damned stupid medication," he ranted, "I swear I've had it with proscribed drugs," a quick glance was thrown my way. "When this is all over, Stiles, we're switching to herbal stuff."

I leaned my head against the seat and closed my eyes.

"Hang on kiddo. We're almost at the hospital."

Suddenly, I clutched at the armrest, "pull over, Dad," I wheezed. I sat up and covered my mouth.

"Stick your head out the window, Stiles."

A sickening noise came from the back of my throat, and black spots distorted my vision. "Dad," I said in a whisper I was sure went right out the window, "I need you to stop and pull over." He grunted. It was suddenly hard to breathe. My pulse shot up. "Dad!" I rasped, "Dad, something's wrong!"

Stilinski slowed the car and looked over at me, "Stiles…"

A spew of sundae and stomach acid erupted from my mouth. My hands were coved in the hot sticky mess as it streaked down my shirt and onto the car's floor.

"G-d, Stiles." The sheriff breathed. I could feel the cruiser speeding up.

My body heaved again, hard. But there was something wrong with the vomit. It tasted too metallic. Damn, it was as black as pitch. "I'm bleeding." The sheriff shouted something, but I couldn't hear it. The siren quieted to a whimper. My eyes were spinning, everything distorted. I passed out. That seemed to be another thing Stiles' body was good at.


	9. Chapter Nine: When it Rains

Hey all, (waves and grins). Here is chapter nine. I am very pleased with the support for going plot-less. Since I don't have the slightest idea what's going to happen next, that means a lot. About all the cliffhangers, I figured out why I've been doing them. It's sort of a prompt to get me to write. They're dots I have to connect. Oh, Another State of Mind also got added to a community, which is super cool! That's never happened to one of my stories before. Many thanks for that! I would also like to thank the reviewers. (There were a lot of you guys this time which is mega awesome!) Comic fan- When I read your review I get a smile so big that my lip curls up like an orangutan's! Thanks so much for the Derek's POV complement. I want to frame your review and hang it on my wall. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! Yuu13- Thanks so much for the review! Colorful-POP- Here you go! - Thanks for the review! XMissXSpunkyX- I really appreciate your review and support! I'm very happy you found my story too! Rosejonna- Thanks for the review. Unfortunately we're going to have to wait a bit longer to see how everything's going with Derek in Stiles.

Chapter Nine: When it Rains

I closed the car door too quickly and caught my jacket in it. Cursing, I pulled myself free. Somehow I managed to trip over the non-existent curb and my feet before reaching the hospital entrance. Apparently, being in Derek's body doesn't cure the inherent clumsiness that is anxious Stiles.

As I pushed through the door, I almost ran smack into Scott. "How is he?"

Relief surfaced in his eyes briefly, but got shoved back under by worry. He shook his head, "we need to talk." Scott pushed my shoulder towards the long hallway, away from most of the hospital rooms.

I noticed the morgue entrance, "Did he die?! I got a text a couple of minutes ago, and unless-"

"He's not dead." Scott gestured to a visitor's bench.

I sat down quickly and watched Scott join me. He was biting his lip, looking downwards. Trying to find the right words to say what he had to. A couple of times he looked like he was about to speak. He'd glance at me quickly and then shake his head. My stomach seemed to have a lack of interest and started playing cat's cradle with itself.

"Damn it, Scott, spit it out!"

He sighed, "You're a werewolf, Stiles."

I raised my eyebrows, "and-?"

"And, you're a werewolf." He annunciated slowly.

I was still waiting for the punch line. "Wait, is that 'Stiles you're a werewolf coma', or 'Stiles you're a werewolf exclamation mark'?"

Scott groaned in frustration, "Stiles, you, the REAL you, is a werewolf."

Suddenly it all clicked, "So Derek me is…. Oh dear L-rd." Derek's body seemed to deflate. I guess that officially ended the whole werewolf debate I'd been having with myself. That was it. From now on, no matter whose body I was occupying, I wouldn't be human. I stared at the black and white floor tiles until they blurred and ran together.

"You've talked to him?" I asked.

"They won't let me see him," Scott muttered, "But I knew you changed from what your dad said over the phone. "

"What'd he say?"

"That you vomited up black blood. I haven't seen him either. They've got the room Derek's in all sealed off. It's bad."

I hunched forward and ran my fingers through Derek's hair. "Do you think they know?"

He shook his head and sighed, "I have no idea. When your dad called me he was asking about experimental drugs and all kinds of crazy stuff. I'm pretty sure they know something's up."

My pocket vibrated. I fished my phone out and looked at the screen.

"What?" Scott leaned over to see.

"It's a text from Derek: 'Your pain threshold isn't nearly high enough,' Man, that doesn't sound good." Another note popped up, 'why don't you come in here so that I can break both your arms and spread the love?' I blinked at Scott.

"He must be on some pretty strong medication."

A pushed my head back against the wall, "ugh, I wish we knew what was going on in there! You know all the situations and circumstances I thought up about becoming a wolf not one of them had me in a different body?! I guess it's just another one of life's little surprises, you know that whole man plans G-d laughs thing." I expected Scott to say something a little comforting, when he didn't say anything I turned to see him with his eyes shut. "Scott?"

"Shhh," he cautioned.

Oh right, the whole werewolf hearing thing. Well, since that was going to be one of my new abilities, I might as well figure out how it works. I closed my eyes and concentrated on what I could hear. Somebody was pushing something with squeaky wheels in the opposite direction. I tried to follow the sound. A door opened and shut. Feet tapped against the floor. There were mumbled voices, I focused on those. I envisioned a volume control bar and pushed it up. That helped.

"…the matter with that Stilinski kid?"

"The doctor's not sure yet. They've done a lot of tests. I've heard a specialist is getting flown in from out of state."

"That serious, hu?'

"Yeah, the Sheriff's really beside himself. Hey, did you happen to catch that new episode of America's Top Ostrich Framer last night? It was crazy! When that bird pecked-"

I let my hearing slip back to normal. "There's seriously a show called America's Top Ostrich Farmer?"

"What?" Scott frowned at me.

"Never mind," I waved it off, "did you hear anything? What's going on?"

"I didn't get much." He confessed, "Nothing from Derek's room. I overheard a few people talking though. A specialist is getting flown in from Washington DC."

"Really? Makes sense I heard he was from out of state." My attempt to nonchalantly bring up my new ability was lost on Scott.

"It's not just any specialist either." He continued, "This guy works with weird things."

"Weird things? What like aliens and stuff?"

Scott shrugged, "not sure, but I bet if they did ever happen to catch E.T., this guy would be the one they'd call."

"Just what we need, another cryptozoology expert, you'd think we had enough of those." I sighed, "When it rains it pours." I mumbled. G-d I seemed to be full of words of wisdom this afternoon. I rubbed my face, and then rested my chin on my folded hands.

"Scott, what are you doing here?" We both turned to see Mrs. MCcall standing at the end of the hallway.

My friend leaped to his feet. "We heard about Stiles, how is he?"

His mother sighed and pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "The test results aren't back yet, it looks to me like he's suffering from an allergic reaction to a sedative the doctor had him take."

"Do you think we could see him?" I asked, standing up.

"I don't think he's up to seeing visitors just yet." She replied, scrutinizing me.

"I'm Derek Hale, " I supplied, "I'm-"

She nodded, "you're the one who drove off that mountain lion that attacked Stiles. I heard all about it from the night shift. I think the sheriff wants to talk to you." It was clear from her expression that she found the whole mountain lion story fishy.

"Sure," I replied, trying to give a puzzled frown.

Mrs. MCcall wasn't buying it. "He's in the doctor's office," she told me as we started off, before turning to Scott, "you stay here."

"But-"

"I'll get you the second you can see Stiles." I could tell she didn't want him anywhere near me. Derek just exhumed a not so friendly aura. He didn't exactly dress like a law abiding citizen, and never smiling didn't help. Still it was kind of annoying how people could just judge you by that. I mean, it wasn't even really Derek anymore. It was me, but no one could believe that.

I tried out a grin as I walked towards the doctor's office. It seemed to take more effort than needed. Derek's face was very unyielding. Obviously his mouth wasn't used to sitting any way that wasn't a scowl or a bared teeth snarl.

"How do you know Scott?" Mrs. MCcall asked out of the blue.

"I just met him," Keep it simple.

She didn't seem too satisfied, "really?"

"Yeah really," I replied, "What did you think? That he's one of the guys I'm selling meth to?"

From her wide eyed look she obviously did.

"Just a joke," I countered quickly, "albeit one made in very poor taste." I tried an apologetic smile.

We'd reached the glass fronted door by then. Before knocking she drew herself up to her full height and scowled sternly at me. "I'd advise you to lose the wisecracks before you get questioned by Sheriff Stilinski. He's not likely to appreciate them any more than I do."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," I muttered. I could hear voices inside the room and they didn't sound happy.

"..All I want to know is what's happening to my son!" Dad boomed, "And until you can give me a straight answer you're not going to push anymore pills on him. He almost died today because of that stuff you prescribed, so my faith in you is just about non-existent. In fact, if I could get another doctor right now I wouldn't be even having this conversation with you."

Youch, I felt sorry for the doctor. Dad was mother grizzly with her cubs in danger angry.

Mrs. MCcall rapped on the door and then opened it a crack. "Sheriff, I got someone here you'll probably want to talk to." She widened the gap.

Dad had both his hands on the front of the desk and he was leaning across it. His face was the reddest I'd seen it in a while. The balding doctor from earlier looked like he was trying to slither under his desk. When my father looked over his shoulder at me, the doctor took the opportunity to rally.

"Yes, I would like very much to talk to Mister Hale," His tone was carefully flat. "Why don't you step in here for a minute, Derek?"

I walked in cautiously, rubbing one shoulder.

"Would you give us a moment, Doctor?"

With a nod, the deflated man got up and practically ran to the door. Dad watched him go. Once the door shut, he faced me, his eyes blazing.

"Take a seat, Derek." He shoved one of the chairs at me.

I did as he asked and suddenly had a flash back to when I was five and broke my mom's porcelain goose. Only this time I knew it would be a lot worse. Because for one thing, I wasn't a five year old kid with big eyes who cried too easily and two, because he had no idea I was Stiles. I was about to have the full grizzly fury unleashed upon me. Sufficed to say, I was not looking forward to it.


	10. Chapter Ten: Around Again

Readers, fans, and fellow people! Here's chapter ten at long last. SUPER overdue I know. I've been really busy, which is odd for me. I actually partially had a life last week. It was interesting. Anyway, I'm really starting to scare myself with this story… I don't know why, but I keep putting 'Derek in Stiles' through all sorts of crud. I guess I might have Suffering Derek Syndrome. (It's not pretty, and I think he's ready to reach through the story and strangle me) If he ever ends up getting a normal chapter that doesn't end in him losing consciousness, it will be a miracle. And I'm trying my darndest to give him that miracle! Thanks speech: : Sorry it's kind of late. Comic fan: Thanks for the review. Here's hoping no one steps out of character bounds. Colorful-POP: Thanks for the review. Rosejonna: We shall see what we shall see. (wink) xMissxSpunky: Sorry that I keep making everybody wait and that I often drag out the boring stuff. It's keeping me on my toes too. Meh Scott, I'm afraid he may be coming across a bit cardboardish.(scratches back of neck) I'll work on that. Yuu13: Sorry for the late update and thanks for the review.

Chapter Ten: Around Again

The wound on Stiles' arm had been puffed up and red, irritated from the Alpha's venom. I could see were all five claws had punctured the skin. He'd licked it too to lessen the bleeding and seal the wound. Venom has a very harsh scent. Even with the rain, when I breathed it burned all through my nose to the back of my throat. Stiles hadn't wanted to be a wolf, so I drained the wound, judging by smell when the threat was removed. There was a lot more of it than I expected. I kept squeezing out more and more blood, but the scent was still there. Stiles was screaming. I wasn't sure how much blood a human could lose before dying. It was going to be close. Finally the venom scent had dimmed enough for me to stop. I'd thought I'd gotten enough of it out, but judging by the black blood I obviously hadn't.

I was in a hospital room, again. I stared up at the grainy ceiling, trying not to move. The base of my neck burned from lying on my back. All across my body were painful patches. I was acutely aware of the tubes running in and out of my arms. An IV stuck in the top of my hand itched like hell. A blood pressure cuff around my calf kept inflating and deflating. Beeps and clicks came from the machines parked around my bed. Frustration welled up inside me. I wanted to rip the tubes out and smash the machines to get them to shut up. I wanted to cause someone physical harm, preferably Stiles. And more than anything, I wanted to be inside my own skin again.

"Stiles?"

Forcing my anger down, I turned my head so that I could see the sheriff. "Hey Dad," I croaked. My mouth was dry, and the aftertaste of blood made me cough.

The frown on his face deepened. "We need to talk," he paused for a moment, "Stiles, something's wrong with your body. There's a foreign substance is in your blood stream and the doctor's still trying to identify it. Now, I'm not going to get mad, and nobody's going to get in any trouble, I just need you to tell me what you injected last night."

"I didn't take anything."

Stilinski shook his head, "Son, you're going to have to tell me. Whatever this stuff is, it's attacking your body… Unless we can identify this thing and treat it there's a pretty good chance your organs might start failing." He gripped my shoulder, "you are not going to die on me, Stiles."

His eyes were filled with worry, eyebrows down, brow furrowed. "I'm going to be fine," I told him.

"No you won't! Damn it Stiles, tell me what you took!"

"I didn't take anything." I repeated, "All this is, is just iron poisoning. It will pass." That was what we told people when we had to cover up for the black blood. It was one of a dozen white lies that had been grilled into me once I was old enough to talk.

"Iron," the sheriff muttered, "you think?"

I nodded and turned my attention to the ceiling tiles again. The sheriff was asking anyone medical related in the room if it could be iron poisoning, but I tuned it all out. If I stared long enough between blinks the gray on gray print seemed to tremble like fuzz on a television set.

An onslaught of tests followed. I was jabbed, swabbed, pinched, scanned and about half a dozen more things that I didn't pay attention to. They ended up putting me on a dialysis machine to try and get my blood clean. That was sort of interesting, black wolf blood entered the machine and by the time it got back to me, it was a few shades lighter, but still not close to human.

Doctor Cohen frowned at the results, "the dialysis is helping, but it's not enough. Perhaps if we used a chelating agent as well,"

My pulse jumped, and one of the machines peeped faster.

Stilinski crossed his arms, "I think we've had enough of your medications."

Cohen wrote something down on his clipboard, "Again, Sheriff, the sedative I proscribed had nothing to do with the change in your son's blood. We've moved on from the issue of the side effects, I trust, and now the only problem at hand is the iron."

"I don't see why," I said, surprising both of them, "why should it matter what color my blood is?"

"It's not the color. The level of iron in your blood is too high. Unless we can successfully treat it, it could damage your liver or even your brain." I could tell the doctor wasn't interested in talking to me.

"Shouldn't you already be able to see results if it was going to?" I appealed to the saner of the two, "Dad, I'm fine. Nothing's going to happen to my organs. My blood's just black. I'm healthy in every other way. Can't we just go?" I tightened my hand into a fist, trying to stay calm. Let me leave! It was bad enough that they'd discovered the black blood, if they kept up their testing, who knew what they'd eventually find?

The Sheriff looked torn. His mouth twitched like someone was tugging on either corner. "While you do have a point, son, I don't think we should rush into anything. And pushing pills on him doesn't seem to be helping." He warned Cohen.

"It is your call, Sheriff," the doctor shrugged, "but remember it's your son's life we're dealing with."

A glare full of hate was thrown Cohen's way, "could I speak to you outside, Doctor?"

The other reluctantly agreed, so they both left. It was just me again. This time I scanned the room, and found Stiles' phone on a small table not too far from the bed. I stretched my arm out and grabbed it. There were twenty messages and about fifty missed calls from Scott. I ignored them and instead sent off a quick text to the cell phone I kept in my car. Stiles would have found it by now.

I shut the phone off and put it underneath the blanket at my side. There was nothing to do now but wait. The spots on the ceiling tile vibrated as I brought them in and out of focus. Stilinski's voice was muffled by the closed door, it quieted as he and the doctor moved down the hall. I concentrated on every painful part of Stiles' body, memorizing them. I was tired. My eyes almost closed a couple of times, so I forced myself to sit up and pressed Stiles' thumb nail into my palm.

Time passed. There were about five crescents on Stiles' hand, each deep and throbbing. I sent off another text message to the car phone. There was no response. I dug into my palm again.

The door opened. I glanced briefly at the nurse who entered. I was used to them now. Most of the hospital staff had been in and out of my room all day, checking on my IVs. I went back to staring at my fist as the nurse looked over the machines and tubing. He was oddly silent; usually they were murmuring encouraging crap. He was examining my arm IV when he cackled.

I looked up to see an empty syringe in his hand. He was smiling a crazed smile. "I know what you are."

Quickly I ripped the IV out of my arm, but the nurse kept grinning, "Too late for that."

It hit me suddenly, paralysis. I fell back onto the cot, rasping for breath; Stiles' body stiff as a board.

The maniac reinserted the IV feed into my arm. "There was another one of you, a year ago. It was a car wreck. I was part of the emergency team that responded. Three people were wounded. One guy had been riding a bike, he was twisted up so bad there was no way he could have survived. Half of his ribs were sticking out of his chest, and he was covered in black blood. Just like yours. Only somehow, he still had a heartbeat. On the way to the hospital though he woke up. The bones slithered back under his skin. And then he stood up… He attacked the team. He killed them all, except me. But he didn't know that… Nobody believed me… But now there's another one of you, and I won't let more people get killed."

I stared up at him, knowing I was stupidly powerless.

The nurse grasped Stiles' index finger. "I want to see it happen again," He muttered and wrenched the finger backwards.

Searing pain rippled up my arm. There was a crunch of breaking bone. My vision went white. I tried to keep conscious, concentrating on the pain, trying to keep it pure.

Tilting his head, the nurse studied me. "Tough little son aren't you?" I could barely hear him. He twisted the next finger.

Pain, pain, there was so much pain. Bright light flooded my vision.

"Heal!" the nurse hissed, "heal you damned-"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Someone shouted from the doorway.

There was a flurry of movement. I felt the cold end of a needle on my neck for a second. Shouting voices. Someone was screaming bloody murder. Blaring noise. Ringing. Pain. Always pain. I didn't care anymore. I let myself fall into the white light, let the pain have me. I waited for the healing to start, to feel the itching in my wounds. Nothing. Nothing. Damn it, can't Stiles do anything right?!


	11. Chapter Eleven: Interrogated

Dear Readers: Well, everybody let me start off giving my apologies for the SEVERE lateness of this chapter. Oy, I've had some writer's block recently. Where words won't come to me and I have to hunt them down with a club and then smear their remains on this document. So while this chapter started out with much gusto, I began to lag in the middle. I rewrote that part about three times, there were lots of alternate scenarios. This is the one I finally decided to use. Thanks speech: Comic fan: Thanks for another great review, again apologies for the lateness and sorry for any finger pain that may have resulted from the last chapter ;) Colorful-POP: There's going to be a lot of that going around I'm afraid. Jag013: Glad I'm not the only one. Rosejoanna: Hopefully questions will be answered soon. . : Sorry it's taken so long, I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for the review. XMissxSpunkyX: Thanks, that makes me feel better about Scott's cardboard state. Yuu13: Thanks for the review and hopefully the next chapter will be the one where they'll finally meet. (Hmmm… Begins scheming…)

Chapter Eleven: Interrogated

It seemed to me that a florescent spot light was pointed right at my head, placing me in center stage, to be analyzed and studied. There was nothing to hide behind, not even a shadow. I shifted in the chair, and shoved Derek's suddenly clammy hands into the jacket pockets.

"Why don't you tell me exactly what happened the other night,"

Dad was offering me the easy out; obviously he didn't believe my story from that morning. I decided to make it hard on myself, "I told you most of it, there was just this mountain lion attacking Stiles, and-"

The incredible silence interrupted me, and the microwave powered glare aimed at my forehead wasn't helping. I could picture Derek's brain melting from the heat, that the liquid wetting my brow was actually brain fluid.

When Dad spoke his voice was cold and quiet. "Don't beat around the bush, Derek. L-rd knows I've had enough damned bush beating for today. I had a look at that wound on Stiles arm… There were five puncher spots. I've never met a cougar with thumbs."

I could see where this was going. I wondered if he would believe it was a deformed cougar. Probably not. I kept Derek's face blank and didn't say anything.

"Still don't have anything to add?" Dad waited for a moment and then launched back into prosecutor mode. "When they bought you into ER, your hands were covered in blood. Stiles' blood when it comes down to it. So unless you start doing some fast talking, Derek Hale, you're going to be in a huge mess of trouble."

I looked up at my father, meeting his eyes. G-d this whole situation was hard on him. He seemed to have aged so much just in the past ten hours. Worry, fear, anger, and uncertainty; they had all etched their own signature upon his face. Guilt wormed around in my gut. I felt like a traitor, because I had put him through all this and it wasn't even me. Dad was all worried about a body I wasn't even occupying anymore. I was here, in Derek's, pretty much fine. I couldn't let him know that, though. At least I was giving him a way to relieve some of his emotion. Pretend like you're on one of those crime shows, I urged myself, try to talk you're way out of it. I cleared my throat and tried to hold my father's gaze as I replied. "It was dark, and it was raining. I assumed whatever was attacking the kid was a mountain lion, what other kind of wildlife do we get here? Whatever it was it took off after I tossed a couple of rocks at it. I already told you how I was bandaging Stiles. That's when I got the blood on my hands."

Dad leaned against the desk "the rain had washed most of the blood away by the time our emergency force got there. But there was still enough, which means you must have squeezed a hell of a lot of blood out of my son."

I'll say, I thought to myself wishing that that stupid lightning bolt had never hit me. Man, not having enough time to hide the evidence sucked. "It was a pretty deep wound…"

"Do you know how we found you in the woods?"

"No."

"Stiles dialed nine one one on his speed dial." Oh crap. "Not many people have the emergency hotline on their speed dial, unless they know they're heading for trouble. Do you think Stiles went out into the middle of the woods expecting to run into a cougar?"

I shrugged again, "I don't know what Stiles does for entertainment, maybe he's a wild animal chaser, you know, like a storm chaser or something." My voice trailed off. Why did I feel like I was shrinking? Dad seemed to be looming taller and taller above me.

"No, Derek, he's not. I want the truth from you, and I want it now. Why were you meeting my son in the woods, and what the hell did you inject him with?"

No rebuttal popped into my head. I was getting tried off all this. More than ever I wanted to get back into my own body, even if I was stuck in the hospital in a world of pain waiting for some crazy alien doctor to dissect me. I wanted to be Stiles again.

Dad folded his arms, "I wish you would just start talking Hale. I know it was some sort of drug cocktail."

Oh G-d not him too! That was it. Once I got out of here Derek's wardrobe was getting a major adjustment, something non-threatening looking, maybe overalls, or a business suit. I rolled my eyes.

Dad snorted, "Do you think I'm blind?! You've been gone for the past six years and suddenly show back up a couple of months ago driving a fancy car. Then you move back into your old house. You don't get a job; you don't seem to do anything with your time except cruise around."

I regretted the meth comment to Mrs. M. even more. As I've previously stated, if you didn't know about the werewolf factor, it would be easy to read all the arrows pointing drug dealer Derek's way. Especially sense he'd been seen around the school a lot lately. I was so sick of all this arguing and play acting. "What's your take on satanic cults?" I wondered, trying to build up a good story line that could get me out of that office.

"I know what you are." That smug whisper wasn't what I'd expected.

I looked up at Dad quickly, his face was purple with rage, "A cult?! This is some type of demonic-" That whisper hadn't been Dad's. I realized I was overhearing something from another room.

"…another one of you a year ago. It was a car wreck…"

"-Rite of passage crap-"

"…Covered in black blood…" Alarm bells went off in my head.

"Oh sniz." I exclaimed, leaping to my feet. I sprinted to the door and had it half way opened when my father shouted.

"Derek, where the hell are you going? Get back-"

I didn't wait around to explain. Once in the hall I sprinted in the direction of the voice. I had to strain to hear it over the bounding of the pulse in my ears. I couldn't remember how to amplify the wolf hearing, and there wasn't time to go through the whole meditative technique I'd used before. The straining to hear made my vision flicker between red and normal as the wolf swelled in Derek's body.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Scott. I turned to see him disappear into the dialysis room. I made a sharp U-Turn that had my shoes squeaking against the linoleum. Even though I raced back, I didn't get there before the room was already surrounded.

Dad had pushed his way through the masses. I tried to follow him but Mrs. McCall blocked me. "You need to move to the front of the building."

The wolf surged under my skin. It would be so easy just to shove her aside. I breathed deeply, trying to calm the beast. "What happened?" I shouted over the noise, "Is Stiles Ok?"

"You need to move." Scott's mom repeated.

I shifted from side to side and caught a glimpse of my body. The doctor was holding up my hand. Two fingers were bent at impossible angles. The wolf rode along my anger, trying to creep out when my expression changed. My ears and mouth tingled.

"Stiles, it's ok. You're fine. Breathe." Scott's low voice sliced through the ruby haze, "Stiles, breathe."

Shaking my head, I backed away from the room. Mrs. McCall gave me a troubled look as she closed the door. I blinked and concentrated on breathing. At each inhale I drove the wolf further back into my core. There it restlessly crouched, reluctantly dormant.

"Scott, what happened?" I asked, leaning against the wall, and sliding partially down it.

"Some nut job was in here, he broke two of your fingers from the looks of things. I knocked him out though." His whispered reply came from the wall's other side.

I inhaled again, "How's Derek?"

There was a pause, "I'm not sure, that guy paralyzed him."

"Was he a hunter?"

"I don't think so. I'll keep you posted when I find out more. Your Dad is not happy."

I sighed as I sat next to the door and rested my head in my hands. I remembered thinking earlier that when it rains it pours, but we were way past that now. Now it had evolved into tropical storm conditions. That's right Stiles, I thought to myself, when it rains here it's a freaking typhoon.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Marked

Hello again readers: It's almost Yom Kippur, and I was just thinking to myself how I'd hate to go into the day of atonement with a whole bunch of readers who are miffed at me for not updating. So, walla! Here is chapter twelve in its entire chapter twelve-ness. (The author would like to take a moment to apologize for any spelling and grammatical errors that are encountered in this text.)

When I first set out to write this story, I thought it would be less than five chapters telling the usual body swap scenario story that we all know… It definitely isn't. Right now Another State of Mind is a lot like a water color picture painted on printer paper. Once it dries the paper starts curling up and when you press down one side of it, the other will bounce up… That's sort of what we're dealing with here. Thanks speech: Yuu13: Thanks for the review, and hopefully more questions will be answered as we go on. Guest: Actually, the chapters are pretty long for me compared to my other stories. I'm glad that's your only criticism though. Comicsfan: Thanks for the review! xMissxSpunkyx: Thanks for the review, I'm glad you like craziness. Anina613: Thanks for the review! Sorry the update has taken awhile. Rosejoanna: Thanks, and here's more.

Chapter Twelve: Marked

I'd had enough. The small amount of patience I'd been running on had depleted. Here I was surrounded by people, trapped in this stupid weak body that was so utterly useless and human. Not to mention that I was also paralyzed for the moment thanks to that crazy idiot who'd stabbed me. The time for patience had long since passed.

My attacker was being handcuffed and taken out. He stared at Scott in horror all the way to the door. Scott, I was glad that he was here. Having another wolf around allowed me to settle some. He stood against the far wall, watching for a break in the swarm of medical staff around my bed.

The doctor wrapped up Stiles' broken fingers. The nurses fixed my IV feed, and hovered over the machinery making sure it hadn't been tampered with.

I closed my eyes and began to search Stiles. I probed around his skull, down his spine and into his torso. Hunting for the familiar touch of the wolf, I found nothing. There wasn't even any trace of power. If it weren't for the black blood, Stiles would be just a run of the mill human. Could he be immune? I had heard that some humans were tolerant of the venom. It shouldn't have changed his blood though in that case.

Most humans either changed when they were bit or died. I thought back over conversations and lessons I'd had. Could it be a complication? Like with a Kinama or another side effect beast? I couldn't know. I started sorting through things I'd been told over the years and observed, as my toes and fingers began to tingle as the paralysis wore off.

"Stiles?" A woman said in a soothing tone. I didn't bother to acknowledge her. "It's ok, if you want to rest; I'm just going to explain some things to you. That man who hurt you injected you with a mild paralysis agent. It should wear off in about twenty minutes. The man has been taken into custody by your father. He's going to get locked up. You're not going to be left alone again. There will be a police guard around at all times. So you'll be safe."

My eyes rolled behind closed lids. People were so ignorant it was disturbing. It always amazes me that no one but the Argents has caught on to us. And why do they keep it to themselves? So that they have all the kills, I guess. If it ever got out to the government that werewolves existed what would they do? My father used to mull over questions like that all the time with his brother. I've never liked dealing with hypothetical questions. They're just another way to procrastinate and draw attention away from the current situation. Like now.

I needed to be asking myself a different set of questions now. How was I going to get back into my own body? How had the bite affected Stiles'? If I was going to be stuck this way, how was that going to effect the situation with the Alpha? With the Argents?

Infuriatingly, there were no answers.

So I just lay on the bed waiting until I could move again. It took a while. Drowsiness set in before mobility. The second I found myself starting to nod off I pushed Stiles' eyes open. The room hadn't changed much in the past ten minutes. Most of the staff had left though only two nurses remained.

Scott was still by the wall, but as soon as I looked at him, he walked over to the cot. "Can you move yet?" He asked.

I blinked. Most of my body was tingling, coming back awake.

He relaxed, threaded his fingers through the bed rail, and lowered his voice. "Derek?"

Another blink.

He frowned as his eyes scanned my face. "That's you, right?"

I looked up and the dropped my gaze rapidly, the closest thing to a nod that I could manage. I wanted to snarl at him and ask where the hell Stiles thought he was hiding.

"This whole thing is so freaky." He grumbled under his breath.

Normality crept up my legs. I could now move Stile's toes. Joy.

"You can come in." Scott whispered, glancing at the door.

I knew he was talking to Stiles. I swirled my eyes towards the door and I watched my body walk in. It was still alive, and in one piece by the looks of things which was a miracle. My breathing became shallower and I mentally curled Stiles' lip.

He seemed nervous from the way he widened my eyes. Three cautious measured steps brought him up next to Scott. He too knotted his fingers in the railing. "Hi ya,"

I wanted to yell at him to get out of my skin. Tell him not to move me around. Not to knot my fingers or ever use my tongue to speak. The paralysis made this impossible, but I let out an angry moan anyway.

My mouth stretched into a half smile, "So, um, sucks to be me, huh?"

A long list of profanities bounced around in Stiles' skull.

"So this is what it's like to have an out of body experience, weird." he muttered.

My face was buzzing. I tried to make the rest of Stiles' body as rigid as possible while I waited for it to wake up.

"Anyway," Stiles kept up a steady stream of nervous chatter, "I think it's kind of good that we're having this first meeting while you can't move. Primarily because if you could move I'm pretty sure you'd try to kill me or something, and I really wouldn't want to have to hurt my body…"

I watched a drop of sweat trickle down my brow. Even though I couldn't smell his fear, I could easily image the musty scent filling the air. How dare he get afraid in my body? How dare he sweat my sweat? Stiles' mouth salivated, a natural response to fear scent. I resisted the urge to swallow, but I heard Scott gulp.

The tingling subsided and I went back to being as normal as Stiles could ever be. I staid still, weighing options. The nurses were both watching my body. Scott swatted the arm in warning and Stiles shut up. Both of them were quiet.

A cough started building in my chest. My throat felt like a feather was being drug up and down it. I tried to suppress it, to shove it down deeper, but it burst out.

Stiles leaped back, hands held up defensively. "G-d!"

The lack of moisture in my throat wouldn't let the coughing stop. It got so strong I was afraid I was going to vomit again. One of the nurses handed me a cup of water. After a couple of swallows, I got the coughing under control.

There was no chance of a surprise attack now. I sat up, and folded Stiles' legs in front of me, ignoring the staffs' protests. "Nice of you to finally show up,"

Scott shot a look at the nurse who'd given me the water. "They just now let me back here…"

"Wasn't talking to you," I wheezed, glaring at my body. Stiles glanced at me quickly, before looking at the nurses.

"Could you leave?" I asked, glaring at them from the corner of my eye.

The younger one went to the door almost instantly, but the black headed one held back. "It's ok, Mom," Scott said, "I'm here."

If that was supposed to make her go, it failed. "Leave!" I barked.

With a frown, she did, but paused in front of the door and added, "I'm going to be in the hallway."

Once the door clicked shut, I reached out towards my body. "Give me your arm, Stiles."

He retreated further, "What? Why?"

"Because I damn well said so," I hissed.

"Derek," Scott began.

"Arm. Now." When Stiles staid where he was, I added, "If I have to get up to do it, you'll be very, very sorry." The snarl that tore through my throat was the most realistic I'd ever managed in this body. I threaded my hand around one of the IV cords, and grasped it as close as I could to where it vanished into Stiles' skin. I was prepared to rip them out one by one so that I wouldn't be dragging the machinery across the room with me when I cornered Stiles.

"Ok, fine," He sighed in defeat, trying to put on an act of bravado. "Here," Stiles walked slowly towards me and laid his arm across the bed rail.

"Derek, this is-" Scott began.

I glared at him.

"Scott it's OK, let's just let him get it out of his system or whatever. I mean, how bad can it hurt?"

Ha, he was about to find out. I brought his own wimpy elbow sharply down on the crock of the arm. There was a snap. Stiles whimpered. I gave the wrist a twist for good measure. He bit his lip and folded on to the floor, clutching at the wound. "Make sure that sets right," I warned him, "or I'll just have to do it all over again."

"Oh. G-d." He hissed out between clenched teeth, "ow. Feel better?" He looked up at me.

I sighed, "it will do for now." Since that was taken care of, I turned to Scott. "Get me out of this place."

"What? How?"

What was with these kids? They seem to get dumber by the second. "Things haven't been going that well here," I raised my hand with the mangled fingers.

"The armed guards should be able to detour all future crazies," Stiles said, somehow making my voice adapt his whining tone.

"I can't stand these people anymore." I grunted, running the less damaged hand across my current face. "I'm tried to playing human."

Stiles make a click in the back of his throat, "What do you mean, playing human?" he asked, agitated, "You haven't been doing a very good job. You've already vomited up black blood, and you have my Dad super suspicious. Why don't you just heal, it probably wouldn't tell them anything they don't know all ready."

I studied the blood moving in and out of the dialysis machine. "I can't."

"Can't?"

"Something went wrong with the bite," I explained, "This body isn't a wolf."

Scott's eyes widened and bewilderment washed over Stiles, "What do you mean? There's freaking black blood!"

"Except for that, it's all human. I don't think the Alpha even meant to change it." I cast around for a good way to phrase my theory. "The Alpha only marked it."

"Marked it?" Scott asked.

I wonder if he can tell when I make this stuff up. "Marked it."

"Like a dog marking territory?"

Stiles wrinkled my nose, "seriously?"

"Yes," I told Scott, "Like a dog marking territory. Sometimes an Alpha will designate a human that they want to come back to, either to turn or to kill. The easiest way is to inject a small amount of venom, so that the subject can easily be singled out by scent. The Alpha's going to be coming back for this body."


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Cat Nap

I LIVE! Ladies and gents, after three too long months I return! I am extremely sorry for the huge wait. Unfortunately I have been suffering from a block for a while. This chapter is well, this chapter is- oyish! You can tell it was written turning a block. Anyway, let's get on with the thanks speech before I chicken out and decide it needs more editing (if I do that you will NEVER see it!) Thanks speech: xMissxSpunkyx: I am glad you enjoy the twists, as were about to start another. Colorful-POP: Many thanks! I'm so happy you like it! Anina613: Thanks and sorry I kept you waiting so long for this one. Pink-Pencil-Girl303: Thanks so much for the review : ) ComicsFan: Sorry to have kept you waiting so long, and as always thanks for the review Rosejoanna: Sorry it's late! Yuu13: you wait is at an end! BEHOLD!

Chapter Thirteen: Cat Nap

Here's a recap of my day so far: You're Stiles. No, you're not anymore, now you're Derek. Since you're Derek, the new you is a werewolf. The old you isn't. Wait, yes it is… No, no, it's not. Ugh, no wonder I had a headache. Plus now Derek was throwing another monkey wrench my way, with that whole 'Marked' thing.

"So the Alpha's going to come back and try to kill or change Stiles?" Scott's gaze switched from me to Derek.

Derek shrugged my shoulders, "He won't chance coming here with so many humans… Not unless he's completely insane."

"Why do you want us to get you out of here then? Isn't this the safest place right now?" I asked. An image of the Alpha crouching in the bushes outside flashed in the back of my mind.

His face darkened once I spoke. I'd never seen myself look angrier. "Maybe from the Alpha," He held up his bandage covered hand again. Ugh, I wished he'd stop waving that around like it was a trophy or something.

"Can you and Stiles switch back?" Scott asked.

Derek's expression looked almost human for once, before it quickly hardened again. I knew he would ignore the question, which is why I hadn't bothered to ask it. If Derek had a way to get back into his own skin now, he would have done it as soon as I walked into the room. I had a hunch he was just as baffled by all this as we were. "Get me out of this place," he urged again.

"Alright fine," Scott allowed, "we'll work on it."

"Good," Derek lay back down and closed his eyes. I guess we were dismissed.

I shrugged at Scott, who shook his head before opening the door. I stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, watching my body. It was so weird to see if from the outside in, it really made me feel disorientated, and walking away from it just didn't seem right. Like those someone in near death experiences, I was afraid that if I left my body, there wouldn't be any coming back. I let the door close slowly, and stared until my view was cut off.

There were two deputies outside the room. Knowing they would be there, guarding against all future nuts, was a relief. Scott's Mom shot a glare at me as she went into the dialysis room. I knew she'd look out for my body too. I craned my neck down the hall way, but there was no sign of Dad.

"How's your arm?" Scott asked in an undertone.

_Thanks for reminding me! _I shrugged and winced as the arm Derek had broken burned. I tried to hold it as straight as possible so that it would set. G-d, it itched. "It's getting there."

We sat down on a bench. I knew I should probably leave before my dad got back and started the interrogation, but I really didn't care anymore. I had half a mind just to tell him the truth and get it over with. Of course he would think I was crazy… Ugh. I was so sick of this whole mess. My stomach agreed. I sat up straighter and my neck jutted out on its own accord as a trail of bile burned up my throat. I swallowed hastily.

"Broken bones can unsettle your stomach," Scott informed me. "It should pass soon."

"G-d, what I wouldn't give to wake up in my room right now," I muttered, rubbing my eyes, "to find out this whole thing was just some oregano induced nightmare."

My friend leaned forward and studied my face. "You look tired, man. Why don't you go get some rest? You should probably clear out before the sheriff gets back anyway… I'll stay and let you know if anything happens."

I sighed, so at a loss for what I should do. I needed a cat nap, but I didn't want to leave Dad or my body. Then again, if I did have to leave them, it was better to have Scott here. We could switch off or something later.

"OK, thanks." I stood up. "I probably won't go too far. I'll just sleep in the car."

Scott shook his head, "dude, rest for real. You know Derek will be pissed if he finds out you're not taking good care of his body."

"Oh yeah, I wouldn't want another broken arm." I checked to make sure the phone was still in my pocket. It was. "I'll see you in an hour or so. If you haven't heard from me by four, call ok?"

"Sure thing,"

I walked a couple of steps and then twisted around to shoot one last look at Derek's room.

Scott groaned, "Go already!"

So I did, lumbering ahead on leaded feet with 'you're never going to see it again' playing over and over on the broken record in my head. The hallway was a lot longer leaving than it had been coming in. I could feel the invisible cord between me and my body stretching and waning until it snapped when I crossed over the threshold.

I bumped right into my Dad. He'd backed himself up against the door and was trying to fend off a camera crew before I slammed into him. He turned towards me, and in his eyes, I could see anger and frustration directed my way.

The crew noticed it as well. Both cameras locked onto my face with gaping shiny lenses.

"Sir," the reporter asked, "do you know anything about the condition of Stiles Stillinski?"

I stood paralyzed for a moment, mesmerized by the flashing red lights on the cameras, before turning up the corner of Derek's jacket to my ear. "I just came here to make a delivery."

The attention focused on Dad again, and I pushed my way through to the parking lot. Heat panned across my back, and I knew Dad wanted to shout at me some more. Luckily, he didn't want to give the cameras a show.

As I unlocked the Derek's car and sank into the leather seat, I knew I would regret leaving later. Oh well. I turned up the heater and flipped on the radio, before pulling out of the parking lot. It was early evening, but the winter sky was already painted for the sunset. I couldn't believe that so much had happened in one day. It was crazy what my life had become lately.

I headed back to the hotel. It was closer to the hospital than the Hale place. Plus there was a real bed there, which was a lot better than Derek's sleeping bag.

The hotel was one of the cheapest in town, with peeling wallpaper in the lobby, and stained carpeting. I'd rented a room in the back of the building on the first floor, a precaution in case I had to bail later.

Room number eight, where I was, had an older door that had swelled. It took me a couple of tries to get the key in the lock and open the door. For a second my hand hovered over the 'Do Not Disturb' sign. It would be best to not use it. That way if all else failed; the cleaning crew could rouse me in the morning.

Inside the brown wallpaper matched the bed spread and the drapes. A thick musty smell hung in the air. Home sweet home.

I took off the leather jacket and laid it on the back of a chair. I sat down on the edge of the bed and yanked off Derek's shoes. No socks. Interesting. I regretfully stuck my hand into the shoes, thinking that the socks might have rolled down and be in the toe. They weren't. The insides of the shoes were damp and stank. Yuck! I rubbed the residue off on his pants. Deep grooves were scratched out in the sole of the shoes. Claw marks from werewolf toes. Obviously Derek just didn't wear socks. I glanced over his feet quickly. They were long and narrow with twisty hair on the knuckles. Lovely. I gave his toes an experimental flex. Under normal circumstances I would have taken off the pants too. But the no socks thing had set me on edge. I'd already seen enough of Derek. The last thing I wanted to do was find out he was going commando. So I just pulled down the covers and slid into the bed.

There was no way I was going to drop off. Derek's body was stiff and awkward. I tried laying on my right side, like I usually did, but his legs didn't seem to bend the right way. His wolf nose was on overdrive too, and I knew that the bed sheets had been washed with Bounce and Tide and before that a chain smoker had slept in them.

This would call for drastic measures. I grabbed the remote control and flipped the T.V to the weather channel. Slow jazz filled the air. I puffed up the pillow behind me and lay on my back. Then I breathed, inhaling and exhaling to the music. This was a tactic I'd developed after my mom died, when the nightmares got the worst. It had never failed me before.

Derek's muscles relaxed, one by one. Slight tremors shook his thighs and arms. Once that subsided, his face went slack. The brow smoothed out, and his mouth twitched as his jaw slackened.

His eyelids dipped close, once, twice, three times…

/

My phone buzzed as the alarm jingle started. I pushed my hand out of the blanket and groped across the mattress until I found it. A quick click shut it off. I would get up in a minute.

/

Someone was calling me. Ugh! My hand had to leave the protection of my cocoon again. This time I pulled the phone under the covers with me and squinted at the screen. Scott? Didn't that guy ever sleep?! I terminated the call. I'll just ask him what it was later at school.

/

I'd only had my eyes shut for a second before I got another call. G-d, this was getting annoying. I just shut the phone off. I mean my battery could have died or anything.

/

Dad was knocking on my door. Oh crap, I must have overslept. I shot out of the bed and rammed my knee into a side table. Since when did I have a side table that was knee busting height? I rubbed my leg and hissed, while trying to get my bearings. The room was dark except for the TV's glow and the ring of light around the floor length curtains. What the-? There was a large bolt on the door and a peep hole. Oh right this wasn't my room. I looked down at my muscular arms. Not my body either.

It all came back to me then, like an elastic band slapping my forehead. I'd overslept! What time was it?! I felt around the bed for the phone. I remembered pulling it under the comforter, so I ripped that up and flung it to the other side of the bed. There was a metallic smack as it took my phone with it. Swearing I started after it.

More knocks at the door.

"Just a second," I shouted. It was probably the maid, if they even had maids at this crummy joint that is.

I raked the blanket aside and squinted into the darkness. "Phone!" I hissed, grouping across the carpet. "Come on!"

My gaze flickered wolf red for a second, and I could make out the outline of the cellphone. Sighing with relief, I picked it up and turned it on.

It sounded like the maid was trying to break down the door this time.

"Coming!" I called. I pushed myself to my feet and jogged over to the door.

I unlocked the door, slid the chain over and opened it. "Hey listen," I started, as I inched the door open. "If you could give me five minutes that would be great, I'll be cleared out of here by then so you can…" Derek's voice failed me suddenly.

It failed me because there was a beautiful twenty something blonde leaning against the door way. She had a blue and green sheet cake balanced in one hand and a wicked looking charged taser buzzing in her other.

A huge smile lit up her face as she whipped the electric baton into my chest. Derek's body convulsed as a thousand tendrils of pain spread across it. Air whooshed past my head. Suddenly, I was on the floor staring up at the girl.

She chuckled at my writhing form before kicking me further into the room. Then she came in and closed the door behind her. "Surprise."


End file.
